


Golden Reminder

by Zahaiderek



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 11:18:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3486257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zahaiderek/pseuds/Zahaiderek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short one-shot about mistakes, life, and the burden of immortality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Golden Reminder

**Author's Note:**

> Marik is the hikari in this story.
> 
> This story can also be found on my ff.net account of the same name.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh, Kazuki Takahashi does.

A hill of stone flowers, edges softened by rain.

The rain falls in dark sheets, the sky choked with thick black clouds. Every year it's rained on this day, the sky opening up and pouring down misery and cold discomfort upon any who dare tread under it. Then again, Britain had always been like that. 

A figure in grey, long drenched to black.

Midst broken and worn gravestones is a lone figure, standing hunched and empty, closed off to the world around him. He thought he would have gotten used to it after the first few years, but the graveyard always brings back that empty feeling, a deep echo of that still unforgotten pain. Maybe it was because even now, all these years later, he still hadn't moved on.

Pale as a wraith, breathing but dead.

He's paler than ever, having let himself fall into an unhealthy lifestyle after the funeral. It clearly showed in skin stretched too tightly over his slight frame, silvery scars standing out starkly against pale flesh and once crimson eyes now a dark, muddy brown. His stillness could almost hide him among the dead, if not for the slight rise and fall of his chest, the inhaling and exhaling of slight breaths.

How, oh how, did it come to this?

Nobody had seen it coming, nobody had thought anything of it, not until the coughing turned to wheezing, the stomach pains to blood. By then, of course, it was too late. One too stubborn to back down, the other infuriated to the point of leaving, no help was called and no treatment given. Within the span of a week, a life was lost and hope was shattered.

Forever had been such a bright concept, one that they would traverse together.

They'd laughed and joked in the past, those silly commitments of forever that other people were so fond of. They had decided to form their own forever. Now though, he regretted never agreeing to the wild whims of his other, left alone without him.

Immortality never supposed to be given to him.

One terrible mistake at that damnable ceremony, one that none had realized occurred. One impossible, uncorrectable, undoable mistake.

He should have moved on, he should have died.

He should never have pleaded to return, never begged a second chance or agreed to mysterious demands. He should have accepted his death then, not bartered for life.

Yet here he stands at the border of what will never be.

A shift in position, the first in hours, and old scars brush against the fabric of new clothes. Long scars running up his arms, short ones running across. A thick, rope-like scar barely visible in the shadow of his throat and yet another over his heart. Again and again he'd tried, and again and he'd failed. He couldn't join those peacefully resting below, never had, and now never will.

A single tear escapes, the only one shed.

"It's been a hundred years, Marik. I still miss you." And at last the wraith leaves, the only evidence of his passing the faint gleam of gold.


End file.
